


A Craving in the Bones

by Rroselavy



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 11:58:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1265662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rroselavy/pseuds/Rroselavy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanzo’s tired of shoring up his defenses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Craving in the Bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sekaiseifuku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekaiseifuku/gifts).



> _Spoilers_ , darling (takes place after latest _Blast_ chapter)! Written for the Saiyuki Valentine Quickie Exchange at the Dreamwidth community Valentine_Smut. With humble thanks to my beta, Kis.

He survived. 

It’s the first thought Sanzo has when his eyes blink open. There’s a black hole in his memory -- it ends shortly after Kougaiji invoked Engukoki -- but here he is, laid out in a bed, somewhere deep inside the monastery. Tilting his head incurs spasms of pain, but it fades slightly when he sees that his sutra is neatly rolled and safely tucked on the bed next to him.

The next thing he notices is that it’s eerily quiet. Or maybe he’s temporarily lost his hearing from the deafening _whooooosh_ that accompanied the demon-spirit’s arrival.

“You okay, Sanzo?” Goku’s voice solves that brief mystery.

“What do you think, moron?” Sanzo croaks. He tries to sit up and, even though he can feel warmth in his joints from Hakkai’s _chi_ , the pain is excruciating. It stops, though, as soon as he gives up on moving.

He can only imagine how much energy Hakkai’s wasted on fixing him, yet again.

“You sent me away.” Goku makes this statement matter-of-factly, but as he steps into Sanzo’s line of vision, his eyes flash angrily.

“Boo-hoo. I hurt the little chimp’s feelings.” Sanzo’s head throbs with each syllable. 

“That’s not it, and you know it!”

The pain recedes again to a dull ache behind Sanzo’s eyes. He doesn’t want to have this argument, but it’s not just because even taking a breath hurts. He’s all too aware that he’s the weakest link in the group; that point couldn’t have been made any clearer than when he faced Ukoku alone and came up short. Way, way short. But that doesn’t give Goku -- or anyone -- the right to dog his every step to keep him from getting hurt or killed. That only pisses him off because it’s his goddamn life to lose.

He doesn’t have the strength to physically remove Goku, so Sanzo knows he’s going to have to suffer the stupid ape and his stupid ideas.

“What is _it_?” he asks in quiet resignation. He swears that when he feels better, he will make Goku pay for every word he utters.

“I don’t want to lose you … again.” Goku answers in a hushed tone. The pain Sanzo feels now is different. They’ve never spoken about the night Goku nearly died; about how he disappeared. Sanzo can only imagine what Goku thinks that was about, but he’s never had the guts to ask him. 

He doesn’t now, either, even though he’s finally come clean with himself about the reason he bolted. 

“It’s going to happen, Goku. I will die.” The fact is that Sanzo couldn’t bear to watch Goku die, couldn’t hold him in his arms and watch his life drain away, the way he did Koumyou’s. And he still owes that cocksucker Ukoku a couple of bullets to even the score.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t hafta be for like seventy years!” Goku blurts. He’s hovering over Sanzo now. His clothes are dirt- and blood-streaked, but he doesn’t look any worse for the wear. Other than that night, Goku never does.

It’s a ridiculous, artless statement. But the thought behind it is one Sanzo’s pondered on many a quiet evening alone over a beer while chain-smoking. He’s been trying to figure out a way to bargain Goku’s freedom with the Sanbutsushin.

Sanzo lifts his arm, gingerly at first, anticipating another shock of pain. He’s pleasantly surprised. The muscles are stiff and his joints still ache but far less than a few minutes ago. He reaches up to tousle Goku’s hair, just as he’s done on countless occasions. Only this time, Goku intercepts him. He flattens Sanzo’s hand against his chest. Goku’s heart is beating strongly underneath his sternum. Goku doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to, because Sanzo _knows_. He always has known; probably even before Goku had found the words to describe what he was feeling. Sanzo has felt it, too, probably since the time Goku first revealed his true self. 

Goku’s eyes are closed but Sanzo can read his expression, he’s seen it a million times -- whether it’s food, some shiny object, or him -- it’s an ageless, patient longing. It tells Sanzo that Goku will wait for him -- eons if he has to -- just like he did before Sanzo freed him. It pulls at his heartstrings, and this time all the arguments he’s stacked up against sleeping with Goku are quaint and outdated and weak at best. He smokes, he drinks, he swears, he kills; it seems stupid to refrain from fucking Goku at this point.

“I know what you want,” he says. “I want it, too.” Goku’s eyes open wide when Sanzo’s fingers curl into Goku’s shirt and he yanks him forward. Their faces are inches apart. Sanzo has the overwhelming desire to lick a fleck of dried blood off Goku’s cheek. Instead, he presses their lips together.

The kiss isn’t about sex and pent-up desire; it’s a promise. 

And just maybe a little sex, Sanzo thinks, as Goku takes it as an invitation to join him on the bed. Sanzo pushes his hands against Goku’s chest in protest, but it’s too late. Their lips have formed a seal and Goku’s tongue fills Sanzo’s mouth, eagerly exploring every contour, urging Sanzo to reciprocate.

He can’t help himself; he doesn’t want to stop Goku. He knows he should be asking about the others -- even though Hakkai must be all right, there’s still Gojyo and Sharak unaccounted for -- or helping to secure their defenses against a new onslaught, but he wants to have this moment, however brief, before the weight of his mission settles back onto his shoulders. Besides, he trusts that Goku wouldn’t put this before Hakkai’s and Gojyo’s safety.

The residue of Hakkai’s _chi_ has made Sanzo’s body warm and relaxed, and Goku’s hands sliding, feather-light, across his chest do funny things to Sanzo’s body. His stomach tightens pleasantly and his skin tingles everywhere Goku touches. When two calloused thumbs circle Sanzo’s nipples, he arches into them, a groan escaping his lips. 

“Just lie still,” Goku whispers, his breath tickling Sanzo’s ear. He presses Sanzo’s back against the mattress. “Lemme take care of you.” Goku is all too willing to take the lead and Sanzo is all too willing to let him. Pleasure undulates through his body as Goku devours it with lips, teeth and tongue.

Sanzo watches Goku peel the covers away. His dick is rock hard and the skin is flushed a deep purple-red; the color almost matches Goku’s lips as he opens them to accept the swollen head. Sanzo wants to thrust up into the moist heat that envelops him, but Goku’s hands are clamped on his hips, immobilizing him. He bunches the bed linens in his fists and bites his lip to prevent from crying out as Goku takes his dick in to the root, his throat muscles clenching against his length. 

Sanzo squeezes his eyes shut, stars bursting and contrails arcing across the back of his eyelids; he comes, deeply embedded in Goku’s mouth, the suction around his cock draining what little strength Hakkai’s healing had given him. Sanzo’s last thought before he loses consciousness is that he’s been an idiot to hold Goku at arm’s-length for so long.

Sanzo rouses to the perfume of exotic spices. It’s dark outside, and there is a tray with dinner on a chair next to his bed. The main dish is a sea of green with chunks of white cubes; there’s a bowl of steaming basmati rice next to it.

Sanzo sits up with nary a complaint from his muscles and joints. He wonders if the blowjob was just a figment of his imagination.

“I thought ya might be hungry,” Goku says. He’s sitting in a chair by the door, dressed in a tee shirt and a pair of pyjama pants. 

Sanzo’s stomach growls. He reaches for the tray and digs in.

Goku’s hovering now. Between bites, Sanzo grunts, “What is it?”

“About before …”

Sanzo freezes for a second and looks up at Goku. Warmth floods his body and he feels his dick stirring as he imagines that mouth working it over again.

“I didn’t mean ta--”

“Goku, don’t,” Sanzo puts his hand up. There’s time enough to work that out.

“But--”

“Before you say another word, remember what I said.”

Goku cocks his head, and after a brief moment of silence he replies, “Okay.” 

Sanzo finishes his meal in peace. The awkwardness of the moment has disappeared, and it’s just him and Goku, like it’s always been. But it will be different now. Goku picks up the tray and heads toward the door.

“Just leave it outside,” Sanzo tells him, “then come back to bed.”


End file.
